I can't help but cackle as I can all but hear the canon plot cracking apart. Pretty happy the idea the quests are serving canon got put down so fast.
Brockton Bay's Marvelous Mage
- Thread starter MetaBettaOmega
- Start date
...for every Gandalf, there is a Pippin.
Something Actually Being Done seems like it might cause Taylor to reevaluate her worldview. Also, if she ends up signing onto whatever team of supers Arcanum is (accidentally) putting together that's potentially the Wards down a cape and his nefarious band of do-badders (source; Brandish) putting the white hats even more at his mercy. He can't just keep getting away with this!
Also, with Hess gone for several days, what's the cause? Did the PRT keep investigating after all and when Shadow Stalker's misdeeds came to light Piggot threw the book at her? (I doubt it, but there's a chance)
- Location
- Usa
Glad to hear she won't be getting any grooming tips from the OC.
I always hate that shit.
Well Hess is screwed
I believe she's still under investigation/house arrest due to assaulting our mc when he tried to peacefully negotiate with Mush.
Based on Arcanum's reaction, I'm pretty sure Miss Militia is going to get a call about it. PRT leadership currently knows little to nothing about "the locker" because Sophia's handler has managed to keep it quiet, and possibly some interference from Calvert.
Short ver: MM and Piggot gonna blow a gasket when they get the real story, and Hess won't be seen in BB ever again.
Question is will orders from high have them play softball with Hess. I think Gandalf-lite may blow his own gasket if that happens, the PRT is already on pretty thin ice with him with their shady a/f behaviour.
Then again, we can always hope that Collateral Barbie Prime will realize that containment of this issue is already breached.
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Chapter Forty Four
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In the end, we decided that just sitting out by the sidewalk was not the best place for Taylor to tell her whole story. She was obviously struggling enough as it was, so going somewhere that she felt less exposed would make it a lot easier for her. Unfortunately, I couldn't exactly just show up at their house. Thankfully, rather than attract more attention to the situation, Reynolds suggested the police station. We could take separate routes to avoid further attention, and it would give Taylor a chance to get her thoughts in order.
By the time we reconvened at the police station, it was late afternoon. Taylor and her father had returned to their home so the young woman could change and have something to eat. I had sent Troy back to the Docks community and rode shotgun with Sargeant Reynolds to the station. It didn't take long for Sergeant Reynolds to find us a conference room to borrow, though, in the end, he didn't join us. Instead, Detective Sheryl, the woman who had been originally assigned to Taylor's case, took his place.
The detective was an older woman with grey and brown hair and a weathered, stern face. When Taylor arrived, her father was in tow. Sheryl sat her down at the head of the conference table with a cup of tea and recorder, ready to copy Taylor's story. The young woman still seemed confused, like she couldn't comprehend what was happening or was surprised that it still was.
It was a slow start, with the young woman stumbling and halting at the beginning of her story, which started a shockingly long time ago. I wasn't surprised to see her struggle, considering how closely she had kept all of this to her chest. Talking about it was the exact opposite of what she had been doing for two years, meaning she was struggling against her own instincts. Thankfully, once she got going, it became easier and easier until it was nearly a non-stop story deluge, the young woman seemingly unable to stop.
The young woman told a tale of suffering, bullying, and damn near torture. It was hellish, a near-perfect storm of betrayal, isolation, parental failure, and system corruption. It was almost like someone had fine-tuned her life to create the poor girl's perfect hell. Just about as disgusting as the bullying itself was the complete and utter failure on the part of the teachers and principal to do anything about it. It was obvious they had to know something, as the hell that Taylor was describing was too overt, too chronic for someone not to notice. This was a full-blown cover-up. It was just a matter of finding out how deep it went and why it existed in the first place.
I could see Taylor's father struggling to comprehend what his daughter had experienced, going through guilt, shame, anger, disgust, and quite a few combinations of each over and over again, each one painted clearly on his face.
Of course, while the what and how might have been disturbing and horrifying, the truly sad part was just how solvable all of it was, how... small it seemed to myself and, no doubt, Detective Sheryl. Taylor was a teenager, and as it was for many of them, their lives started and ended with the world they saw on a daily basis. To Taylor, it seemed like the entire world was against her because, as far as she could see, it was.
Never mind that a five-minute talk with any police officer in the city, any person above Principal Blackwell in Brockton Bay's school system, a lawyer, a reporter, hell, just about anyone with basic human decency and an internet connection, would have seen this whole situation blown open, just like what was happening now.
Instead, to her, it seemed like she was lost in a sheer-walled pit, surrounded by monsters and demons who, at best, ignored her suffering and, at worst, reveled in it.
Thankfully, that sense of complete isolation and walled-off nihilism was fixable. In fact, I could see it happening in her eyes, every time she said something new. She would look at us, waiting for us to accuse her and say that we didn't believe her, or to brush it off and insist it was her imagination, or that she was merely seeking attention. She had been trained to assume all authority figures or adults existed to keep her in her pit, and when we didn't, a little bit of life returned to her eyes.
The life in her eyes grew and grew, lighting up her features. A fire was smoldering inside of her, and as she desperately told her story, it burned brighter and brighter. Even as she was reduced to tears of relief, it shone through.
It was hope. Hope that this was finally it. That we would finally do something. That someone had seen her pit and was determined to get her out. As she held on to her father, both of them crying, both of them apologizing to each other, Detective Sheryl and I stepped out of the conference room to give them some time.
"So. Who do you think should I call?" I asked as the detective used an absolutely archaic coffee machine to make herself a drink. I desperately wanted one as well, but I couldn't drink with my mask on.
"Who could you call?"
"I could call Assault or Miss Militia directly, or I could ask one of them for a number for a more specific person… Or I could just call Director Piggot."
"Why do you have the Directors number?" The older woman started, only to shake her head and wave the question away. "Doesn't matter. Call Director Piggot."
"You want to go straight to the top?" I asked.
"This would all get to her hand eventually. It's too big of a deal not to." She explained. "At a minimum, this is someone using PRT resources to cover up a crime. Trust me, I've met her too. She would just resent the wasted effort."
"Fine, I'll contact the Director. What happens after that? We go into the PRT?" I asked. "Should I be there? Or should I-"
"You should absolutely be there," The woman said, spinning around to focus on me with a glare. "You ain't looking to pass that poor girl along, are you?"
I met her gaze rather easily, staring straight back at her.
"I'm going to let that accusation slide because, after everything that's happened, you have the right to be paranoid, Detective Sheryl," I said, shaking my head, my mask hiding my scowl. "But please refrain from assuming the worst of me, especially when I haven't done anything to deserve it."
She let out a long breath, running her hand through her white hair, but eventually nodding in understanding.
"I was asking if I should come because I wanted to make sure I didn't make the situation harder than it needed to be," I explained.
"Fine, fair," She said, taking a big sip of her coffee. "You should come with us because it gives us legitimacy. If it's just us… I'm worried they might brush it under the rug."
I frowned, chewing the inside of my cheek as I considered her words. My first few interactions with the PRT and the Protectorate had been… less than optimal. While things had settled down a bit, I couldn't deny that an attempt to sweep everything away before it could do any damage to their rep didn't feel very far-fetched. I didn't think they would do anything too crazy, but then again, anything but the truth was unacceptable.
"Then I'll be there," I said with a nod.
We waited another fifteen minutes before Danny eventually stepped out of the room, motioning for us to come back in. Once we were settled, I floated the idea of going directly to Director Piggot.
"I've met her before," I assured them. "She… isn't the easiest person to get along with, but she takes her job seriously. If someone is messing around with PRT resources she will be on them like white on rice in a snowstorm."
We discussed our options for a bit before I finally pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number that Director Piggot had used to contact me to negotiate healing while Panacea was taking her break. It rang once before a voice I didn't recognize answered.
"Hello, Office of PRT Director Piggot, how may I help you?"
"Hello, my name is Arcanum, and I'm trying to reach Director Piggot," I explained, the voice giving a slight start. "I talked to her previously at this number."
"Of course, Arcanum. One moment while I contact the Director."
Before I could say anything, hold music started to play, and I couldn't help but groan. We waited patiently for five minutes before the phone clicked over again, this time to the no-nonsense voice of Director Piggot.
"Arcanum, it is good to hear from you," She said. "My secretary said you wished to speak to me?"
"Yeah, I did. I think I might have uncovered something nefarious going on in the PRT," I said, the line going silent for a good thirty seconds. "Hello?"
"I'm finding myself less glad to hear from you, Arcanum," She responded. "But yes, I am here, Arcanum, waiting for you to elaborate."
I quickly gave the stern woman the rundown of the situation, giving her the names Taylor had told us, the circumstances, and other details we thought might be important. The entire time, Director Piggot was silent. When I was done, it took a full thirty seconds for her to finally respond.
"Arcanum, thank you for bringing this to my attention," she said, her voice tight, like she was barely holding her anger and frustration at bay. "You mentioned that Danny Hebert is with you. Could you hand him your phone?"
"Sure thing, here he is."
I said, pulling my phone away from my ear and holding it out to Taylor's father. For a moment, he looked at it, making no move to take it. Then, he seemed to settle up, reaching out and grabbing it.
We watched the one-sided conversation, which eventually ended with Danny passing me back my phone. The Director thanked me again before asking me to come in the following day so I could sit in with Danny and Taylor in some sort of meeting. I agreed but stopped her before she could end the conversation.
"Director Piggot, I don't want to end with anything as crude as a threat or ultimatum," I admitted, letting out a long breath. "But you need to understand that I will not be letting this go until Taylor and her Father are satisfied with the information and recompense. Please don't make me prove how far I am willing to go."
"We will see, Arcanum," She responded calmly. "I will see you tomorrow."
I folded my phone closed as the call end beep sounded, sliding it back into my pocket and leaning back in my chair.
"What did she say?" Detective Sheryl asked, leaning on the conference room table.
"She wanted time to investigate what we told her," Danny responded. "She seemed genuinely angry at the possibility and… I also got the feeling that she knew something. Like after a point, she wasn't surprised. She agreed to a meeting tomorrow afternoon, at four PM."
"She wanted me there as well," I added.
"...Did I do the right thing?" Danny asked after a long moment, looking at his daughter, who at this point looked tired and drained but… still somehow better than when I first met her. "My gut was telling me she was telling the truth, that they did just want to investigate, but what if they just wanted time to wipe everything clean?"
"Then they are going to have a bad time when I go to the press, explaining what I heard and what she said to me," I explained with a shrug. "Maybe the next Director will have some basic human decency. But I don't think that will be a problem. Director Piggot may be… shrewd, but she didn't come off as purposely corrupt or negligent."
"And I'm sure if she does try something, a mysterious copy of my report and investigation could show up on someone's doorstep, someone who could use it to show at the PRT did, in fact, take over the investigation," Detective Sheryl. "There are options."
"For now, I think it's time for you guys to get home. I think some quiet time and a nice meal will do both of you some good," I said with a smile, reaching out to pat Danny's shoulder. "I'll be waiting for you outside the PRT."
Danny nodded, looking down at his daughter, who also nodded in agreement. Detective Sheryl escorted the two of them from the building while I snuck out the back, making my way to the Docks community to pick up Troy. While I was there, I spent some time checking in on everyone, helping out around the place, and making sure the orchard was stable and charged.
I was making my way across the city, doing a half-assed patrol on my way to the forest and home, when Alya pulled in close.
"I was thinking about something," She said, her tone hesitant, as if she wasn't sure she should be telling me something.
"At least one of us was," I commented, shaking my head a moment later. "Sorry, I'm still in a funk from listening to Taylor. What is it?"
"It's about her, or, at least, something she said," She admitted, pausing for a second before continuing. "She explained that her more physical tormentor has been absent from school for some time now. Danny also commented that Director Piggot wasn't surprised by some of what she was hearing. Like she had expected more bad news."
"I don't think he worded it that way, but sure."
"William, what happened a few weeks ago?" She asked. "Having to do with an overly physically aggressive minor and the PRT?"
"Overly aggressive… Wait, Shadow Stalker?" I asked, my mind reeling a bit from the connection. "That's a hell of a stretch…"
I considered the idea, turning it over in my head a bit. There was no doubt that what little facts we had did fit, but only because we had so few. After all, the fewer points plotted, the easier it was to place them on a common plane. The chances of those particular coincidences lining up were beyond small… but damn if they didn't fit.
"I can see why you drew that conclusion, but I doubt it's actually true," I pointed out. "And even if it is, we can't do anything about it. There are some pretty serious restrictions and laws about Wards, specifically about their identities. Either way, we can't use it to our advantage."
"Maybe, but it does answer a few questions," she pointed out.
"Yeah, and raise a dozen more," I added with a snort, guiding Troy through a shortcut through an alleyway. "Like I don't have enough already."
Despite having saved Taylor from being chased and having spent so much time with her afterward, my reward for the quest had not come through. Instead, it just hung there, open, like it was waiting for me to complete every aspect of it before deciding what it was worth.
I could only hope I would gain some understanding of how it worked when it finally made up its mind.
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In the end, we decided that just sitting out by the sidewalk was not the best place for Taylor to tell her whole story. She was obviously struggling enough as it was, so going somewhere that she felt less exposed would make it a lot easier for her. Unfortunately, I couldn't exactly just show up at their house. Thankfully, rather than attract more attention to the situation, Reynolds suggested the police station. We could take separate routes to avoid further attention, and it would give Taylor a chance to get her thoughts in order.
By the time we reconvened at the police station, it was late afternoon. Taylor and her father had returned to their home so the young woman could change and have something to eat. I had sent Troy back to the Docks community and rode shotgun with Sargeant Reynolds to the station. It didn't take long for Sergeant Reynolds to find us a conference room to borrow, though, in the end, he didn't join us. Instead, Detective Sheryl, the woman who had been originally assigned to Taylor's case, took his place.
The detective was an older woman with grey and brown hair and a weathered, stern face. When Taylor arrived, her father was in tow. Sheryl sat her down at the head of the conference table with a cup of tea and recorder, ready to copy Taylor's story. The young woman still seemed confused, like she couldn't comprehend what was happening or was surprised that it still was.
It was a slow start, with the young woman stumbling and halting at the beginning of her story, which started a shockingly long time ago. I wasn't surprised to see her struggle, considering how closely she had kept all of this to her chest. Talking about it was the exact opposite of what she had been doing for two years, meaning she was struggling against her own instincts. Thankfully, once she got going, it became easier and easier until it was nearly a non-stop story deluge, the young woman seemingly unable to stop.
The young woman told a tale of suffering, bullying, and damn near torture. It was hellish, a near-perfect storm of betrayal, isolation, parental failure, and system corruption. It was almost like someone had fine-tuned her life to create the poor girl's perfect hell. Just about as disgusting as the bullying itself was the complete and utter failure on the part of the teachers and principal to do anything about it. It was obvious they had to know something, as the hell that Taylor was describing was too overt, too chronic for someone not to notice. This was a full-blown cover-up. It was just a matter of finding out how deep it went and why it existed in the first place.
I could see Taylor's father struggling to comprehend what his daughter had experienced, going through guilt, shame, anger, disgust, and quite a few combinations of each over and over again, each one painted clearly on his face.
Of course, while the what and how might have been disturbing and horrifying, the truly sad part was just how solvable all of it was, how... small it seemed to myself and, no doubt, Detective Sheryl. Taylor was a teenager, and as it was for many of them, their lives started and ended with the world they saw on a daily basis. To Taylor, it seemed like the entire world was against her because, as far as she could see, it was.
Never mind that a five-minute talk with any police officer in the city, any person above Principal Blackwell in Brockton Bay's school system, a lawyer, a reporter, hell, just about anyone with basic human decency and an internet connection, would have seen this whole situation blown open, just like what was happening now.
Instead, to her, it seemed like she was lost in a sheer-walled pit, surrounded by monsters and demons who, at best, ignored her suffering and, at worst, reveled in it.
Thankfully, that sense of complete isolation and walled-off nihilism was fixable. In fact, I could see it happening in her eyes, every time she said something new. She would look at us, waiting for us to accuse her and say that we didn't believe her, or to brush it off and insist it was her imagination, or that she was merely seeking attention. She had been trained to assume all authority figures or adults existed to keep her in her pit, and when we didn't, a little bit of life returned to her eyes.
The life in her eyes grew and grew, lighting up her features. A fire was smoldering inside of her, and as she desperately told her story, it burned brighter and brighter. Even as she was reduced to tears of relief, it shone through.
It was hope. Hope that this was finally it. That we would finally do something. That someone had seen her pit and was determined to get her out. As she held on to her father, both of them crying, both of them apologizing to each other, Detective Sheryl and I stepped out of the conference room to give them some time.
"So. Who do you think should I call?" I asked as the detective used an absolutely archaic coffee machine to make herself a drink. I desperately wanted one as well, but I couldn't drink with my mask on.
"Who could you call?"
"I could call Assault or Miss Militia directly, or I could ask one of them for a number for a more specific person… Or I could just call Director Piggot."
"Why do you have the Directors number?" The older woman started, only to shake her head and wave the question away. "Doesn't matter. Call Director Piggot."
"You want to go straight to the top?" I asked.
"This would all get to her hand eventually. It's too big of a deal not to." She explained. "At a minimum, this is someone using PRT resources to cover up a crime. Trust me, I've met her too. She would just resent the wasted effort."
"Fine, I'll contact the Director. What happens after that? We go into the PRT?" I asked. "Should I be there? Or should I-"
"You should absolutely be there," The woman said, spinning around to focus on me with a glare. "You ain't looking to pass that poor girl along, are you?"
I met her gaze rather easily, staring straight back at her.
"I'm going to let that accusation slide because, after everything that's happened, you have the right to be paranoid, Detective Sheryl," I said, shaking my head, my mask hiding my scowl. "But please refrain from assuming the worst of me, especially when I haven't done anything to deserve it."
She let out a long breath, running her hand through her white hair, but eventually nodding in understanding.
"I was asking if I should come because I wanted to make sure I didn't make the situation harder than it needed to be," I explained.
"Fine, fair," She said, taking a big sip of her coffee. "You should come with us because it gives us legitimacy. If it's just us… I'm worried they might brush it under the rug."
I frowned, chewing the inside of my cheek as I considered her words. My first few interactions with the PRT and the Protectorate had been… less than optimal. While things had settled down a bit, I couldn't deny that an attempt to sweep everything away before it could do any damage to their rep didn't feel very far-fetched. I didn't think they would do anything too crazy, but then again, anything but the truth was unacceptable.
"Then I'll be there," I said with a nod.
We waited another fifteen minutes before Danny eventually stepped out of the room, motioning for us to come back in. Once we were settled, I floated the idea of going directly to Director Piggot.
"I've met her before," I assured them. "She… isn't the easiest person to get along with, but she takes her job seriously. If someone is messing around with PRT resources she will be on them like white on rice in a snowstorm."
We discussed our options for a bit before I finally pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number that Director Piggot had used to contact me to negotiate healing while Panacea was taking her break. It rang once before a voice I didn't recognize answered.
"Hello, Office of PRT Director Piggot, how may I help you?"
"Hello, my name is Arcanum, and I'm trying to reach Director Piggot," I explained, the voice giving a slight start. "I talked to her previously at this number."
"Of course, Arcanum. One moment while I contact the Director."
Before I could say anything, hold music started to play, and I couldn't help but groan. We waited patiently for five minutes before the phone clicked over again, this time to the no-nonsense voice of Director Piggot.
"Arcanum, it is good to hear from you," She said. "My secretary said you wished to speak to me?"
"Yeah, I did. I think I might have uncovered something nefarious going on in the PRT," I said, the line going silent for a good thirty seconds. "Hello?"
"I'm finding myself less glad to hear from you, Arcanum," She responded. "But yes, I am here, Arcanum, waiting for you to elaborate."
I quickly gave the stern woman the rundown of the situation, giving her the names Taylor had told us, the circumstances, and other details we thought might be important. The entire time, Director Piggot was silent. When I was done, it took a full thirty seconds for her to finally respond.
"Arcanum, thank you for bringing this to my attention," she said, her voice tight, like she was barely holding her anger and frustration at bay. "You mentioned that Danny Hebert is with you. Could you hand him your phone?"
"Sure thing, here he is."
I said, pulling my phone away from my ear and holding it out to Taylor's father. For a moment, he looked at it, making no move to take it. Then, he seemed to settle up, reaching out and grabbing it.
We watched the one-sided conversation, which eventually ended with Danny passing me back my phone. The Director thanked me again before asking me to come in the following day so I could sit in with Danny and Taylor in some sort of meeting. I agreed but stopped her before she could end the conversation.
"Director Piggot, I don't want to end with anything as crude as a threat or ultimatum," I admitted, letting out a long breath. "But you need to understand that I will not be letting this go until Taylor and her Father are satisfied with the information and recompense. Please don't make me prove how far I am willing to go."
"We will see, Arcanum," She responded calmly. "I will see you tomorrow."
I folded my phone closed as the call end beep sounded, sliding it back into my pocket and leaning back in my chair.
"What did she say?" Detective Sheryl asked, leaning on the conference room table.
"She wanted time to investigate what we told her," Danny responded. "She seemed genuinely angry at the possibility and… I also got the feeling that she knew something. Like after a point, she wasn't surprised. She agreed to a meeting tomorrow afternoon, at four PM."
"She wanted me there as well," I added.
"...Did I do the right thing?" Danny asked after a long moment, looking at his daughter, who at this point looked tired and drained but… still somehow better than when I first met her. "My gut was telling me she was telling the truth, that they did just want to investigate, but what if they just wanted time to wipe everything clean?"
"Then they are going to have a bad time when I go to the press, explaining what I heard and what she said to me," I explained with a shrug. "Maybe the next Director will have some basic human decency. But I don't think that will be a problem. Director Piggot may be… shrewd, but she didn't come off as purposely corrupt or negligent."
"And I'm sure if she does try something, a mysterious copy of my report and investigation could show up on someone's doorstep, someone who could use it to show at the PRT did, in fact, take over the investigation," Detective Sheryl. "There are options."
"For now, I think it's time for you guys to get home. I think some quiet time and a nice meal will do both of you some good," I said with a smile, reaching out to pat Danny's shoulder. "I'll be waiting for you outside the PRT."
Danny nodded, looking down at his daughter, who also nodded in agreement. Detective Sheryl escorted the two of them from the building while I snuck out the back, making my way to the Docks community to pick up Troy. While I was there, I spent some time checking in on everyone, helping out around the place, and making sure the orchard was stable and charged.
I was making my way across the city, doing a half-assed patrol on my way to the forest and home, when Alya pulled in close.
"I was thinking about something," She said, her tone hesitant, as if she wasn't sure she should be telling me something.
"At least one of us was," I commented, shaking my head a moment later. "Sorry, I'm still in a funk from listening to Taylor. What is it?"
"It's about her, or, at least, something she said," She admitted, pausing for a second before continuing. "She explained that her more physical tormentor has been absent from school for some time now. Danny also commented that Director Piggot wasn't surprised by some of what she was hearing. Like she had expected more bad news."
"I don't think he worded it that way, but sure."
"William, what happened a few weeks ago?" She asked. "Having to do with an overly physically aggressive minor and the PRT?"
"Overly aggressive… Wait, Shadow Stalker?" I asked, my mind reeling a bit from the connection. "That's a hell of a stretch…"
I considered the idea, turning it over in my head a bit. There was no doubt that what little facts we had did fit, but only because we had so few. After all, the fewer points plotted, the easier it was to place them on a common plane. The chances of those particular coincidences lining up were beyond small… but damn if they didn't fit.
"I can see why you drew that conclusion, but I doubt it's actually true," I pointed out. "And even if it is, we can't do anything about it. There are some pretty serious restrictions and laws about Wards, specifically about their identities. Either way, we can't use it to our advantage."
"Maybe, but it does answer a few questions," she pointed out.
"Yeah, and raise a dozen more," I added with a snort, guiding Troy through a shortcut through an alleyway. "Like I don't have enough already."
Despite having saved Taylor from being chased and having spent so much time with her afterward, my reward for the quest had not come through. Instead, it just hung there, open, like it was waiting for me to complete every aspect of it before deciding what it was worth.
I could only hope I would gain some understanding of how it worked when it finally made up its mind.
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Perhaps, but I think it answers the relevant ones.
- Location
- Earth
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Based on what he said next, I'm pretty sure the "n't" isn't supposed to be there.
I've had these phone calls. Rarely fun for anyone.
Still, there's a chance this is a thread she can pull on to find Coil (though I doubt this will be the straw that breaks the camel's back).
Either that or, the 'it' is supposed to be on the other side of the 'doesn't'.
Chapter Forty Five
I spent the rest of the day at the forest compound, finishing the alterations and additions to the absorption ritual necessary to make it permanent. I still needed the materials, five pounds of mercury, titanium, tungsten, copper, and nickel, but once I had them, I was ready. In all honesty, I could have finished the design much quicker, but I wanted there to be a level of customizability in the ritual. There was a good chance that I would, at some point, offer this ritual to other people, and there was an equally good chance I would want to give them a version that was slightly below my own. It might have cost me a few hours now, but having an advanced version that I could easily slot in and pull out metals as I needed would come in handy.
The following morning, I went about my usual routine, starting with a quick, simple meal made by Kali. When I was clean and fed, I made my way out of the forest and to the hospital. At this point, the hospital workers knew the deal and had finally stopped pressing me to heal more than I agreed to. I didn't necessarily think that they were mean-spirited or purposely being cruel or trying to maliciously take advantage of me. Instead, I was pretty sure they just saw how easy it was for me to help people, so they immediately assumed there was no reason for me not to spend more time healing. I wanted to help, after all, didn't I?
If it hadn't been for Alya keeping my head on straight, I could absolutely see myself giving into peer pressure, which I could only imagine must have been much worse for Amy. She was already struggling with questions of self-worth thanks to the bitch who raised her, having people constantly push those particular buttons must have been horrible. Again, I didn't think anyone in the hospital was being intentionally malicious or aggressive, but they clearly saw her as an asset to be used first, and a person second.
While I was at the hospital, I paid extra close attention to who was healing from the PRT. They weren't hiding them per se, but I had a sneaking suspicion they were purposely not advertising them either. It wasn't until I healed a kid with a torn rotator cuff that I realized that they were probably worried about the identities of their agents and heroes. They needed their people healed as quick as possible, but it wasn't hard to connect the person who broke their arm to the hero who just had their arm broken.
I made a mental note to talk to Director Piggot when we were meeting later. I had assumed she understood I was happy to make acceptions for heroes, but there was a chance she misunderstood.
Once I was done with my rounds, I made my way to the Docks Community. At this point, the excitement and novelty of combining two communities, as well as mixed parts from a third, had seemed to wear off for their members. People had rebuilt their own little chunks of space, ranging from single-tarp homes that barely counted as such, to much more complicated structures, usually built from customized tents and tarps.
I walked around for a little while, healing and chatting with people, before ending up in an empty corner with Olivia, John, and Charles. It was under the guise of lunch, but really, I wanted more information about something I heard during my rounds.
"So I heard you got some people poking their noses in?" I asked, repeated. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah, it was the ABB, trying to sniff out any competition and stamp them out," Charles said, shaking his head. "It's nothing, really. Just the small-time guy in charge of our neighborhood. He likes to stop by every once in a while, rattle us up, show that he is in control."
"Is he?" I asked. "Did he do anything different this time?"
"He was wary of the golems, which we kept to the side and out of his way," Charles explained. "Other than that, nothing new. As for control… he is in charge of the neighborhood under the ABB, but it's not like this neighborhood is important to them. We are the biggest group here, and we don't exactly have the free cash to buy drugs. Though there are a few here who wish they did."
"So he is a vassal who got handed the crap chunk of land," I equated, John nodding in agreement. "Well, as long as he isn't going to stir up trouble. Let me know if stuff starts to change. I have… an alternative if something goes wrong."
"What, gonna make the whole place disappear?" Olivia asked with a teasing smile.
"I could probably do something like that," I admitted, getting a surprised look from my friends. "I could also set something up elsewhere, someplace out of the way. It wouldn't be any less illegal, but it would be safer."
"Where?" Charles asked. "I know you disappear into the woods most nights. At least that's what everyone says online…"
"More or less," I confirmed with a shrug. "I might have the starting of a base of operations out there. Part of me wanted to keep where I live and where you guys live separate, so you guys aren't caught in the crossfire if someone tries to run me down, but…"
"I think… for now, we are good where we are," John said, with Charles nodding in agreement.
"You'll get accused of being a master if a good chunk of the homeless population just walks into the woods," Olivia pointed out rather bluntly, though not incorrectly. "Better keep things how they are for now."
"Great. Okay, that sounds good," I said with a nod. "And you guys don't think the ABB is a threat?"
"Of course they are a threat," Charles said, shaking his head. "But they aren't going to start trouble, not for no reason."
"Not even over me?"
"Believe it or not, you haven't come up," Charles responded with a shrug. "He didn't mention you or your trees, just kept a close eye on the golems and walked around, trying to sound big."
"His boss is probably hoping you take out more of the Empire," John pointed out, Charles reluctantly agreeing with a gesture. "You already killed one of them, even if he was more of a nuisance than anything. It's in his best interest to let you guys fight it out."
"And he will just let that happen? In his front lawn?"
"Lung tends to rule from the back," Olivia explained with a shrug. "He doesn't step out until something needs to be stepped on. Oni Lee might get sent out to send a message occasionally, but that's only if you go against them. You don't plan on hitting ABB assets or getting involved with their work anytime soon, right?"
I frowned and shook my head. The truth was, at some point, I did plan on hitting ABB assets, but not until I could stamp out the after effects, and guarantee the people I was responsible for would be okay. That meant I couldn't do anything without gaining more power or allies, preferably both. Knowing Olivia was around to help defend the community was a massive weight off my shoulders, and with a few more people to work with, I was pretty sure I could finally start taking down some of the gangs.
We talked a bit more about how everything was going before I left to head to the PRT headquarters. I was a bit early, but I figured doing a few loops of a patrol would burn plenty of time.
Two hours, a mugging and a purse snatching later, I arrived at the PRT office. At the direction of a waiting Agent, I rode Troy down into the parking area, where Assault was waiting. I jumped off Troy, who sat down in a parking spot, before making my way to the hero.
"Good to see you, Arcanum. I-," He greeted me, reaching out to shake my hand, suddenly freezing when he did. It took a moment for him to shake his head and release my hand.
"Huh… well, you certainly earn that Trump rating, I suppose," He said, looking at his hand and then back at me. "I didn't get anything from that."
"What do you mean?" I asked, the Protectorate member turning to lead me to the elevator upwards.
"My powers are all about manipulating kinetic energy, at least when it's applied to me," He explained. "I can feel it on me constantly, every little touch is kinda like an access point. I don't think I can affect you at all, though. Like something is blocking me…"
"Ah well… I did warn you guys I am a tinker of sorts," I pointed out. "Though I didn't mean to counter your powers specifically. If you're up for it, when this is all done, we could do some testing."
"Wait, really?" He asked, sounding surprised, his eyes wide.
"Yeah, I would rather know how it interacts with your ability now than when we are working together in the field," I pointed. "Plus, I get to try out something new. Not gonna show off everything, but yeah, I'll probably have an hour or two."
He nodded enthusiastically, agreeing happily to the idea. Apparently, he had no idea what I was actually here for but had volunteered to come down and guide me before going out on patrol. He admitted he would have to run it by a few people first, but he was confident they would agree.
We shook hands again outside a conference room before he jogged off to find his partner for the day. After saying goodbye, I stepped inside to see the Heberts already there, sitting inside on one side of a conference table. Both of them looked tired and drained, and yet they also looked... healthier and happier.
"Hello," I said, sitting down along the edge of the table opposite the father and daughter pair. "Have you been waiting long?"
"No, we arrived a few minutes ago," Daniel responded. "Listen, Arcanum. Before things get started, I wanted to thank you again for… everything you've been doing. Not just stopping those kids from chasing Taylor, but making sure that this meeting happened."
"I was happy to help," I assured him. "While a lot of heroes seem to think that getting powers seem to mean they should challenge the world to a fistfight, I've found that helping on a smaller scale can be just as important, if not more so. As pretentious as that might sound."
"I wouldn't say so. I asked some of my friends, and it seems like you have been doing a lot of good around this city," Danny said with a smile. "I know a few people living with Charles' group. He seemed to think you've earned the right to give that advice."
"I'm flattered," I said with a smile before looking at Taylor. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm… okay." She said, looking up from her hands. "I got to skip school for today… Sharing everything has made it seem lighter. I got a full night's sleep for the first time in a while."
"I'm glad to hear that," I said. "I hope-"
Before I could continue, the door opened, and Director Piggot immediately stepped inside, quickly followed by Miss Militia. I nodded to both of them, standing politely before sitting down with them. Unsurprisingly, Director Piggot took the head chair, with Miss Militia sitting to her right. The director, simply put, did not look happy.
"First, Arcanum, I want to thank you for bringing this issue to our attention. I have no doubt it would have gotten out anyway, as once you informed the police that the investigation had halted without any investigation or conclusion reached, it was inevitable. However, by bringing it directly to me, I can do this."
She passed a stack of papers to Miss Militia, who leaned over to hand them to Danny. She then slid an identical stack to me.
"This is an NDA. This does not concern the entirety of why you are here," she explained as Danny and I read through the pretty straightforward legal document. "This covers a very specific piece of information that will make explaining this situation significantly easier. If you do not sign this, then this meeting is over. I will remind you that NDAs cannot enforce silence on acts that are illegal."
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "I can't believe-"
"I will also ask you to keep certain thoughts about what you may or may not think this NDA is designed to cover to yourself until all of us can legally discuss it," the large woman added, giving me a harsh look. "Please, sign the papers if you are willing."
I snapped my mouth shut, nodding and looking back down at the papers. It didn't take long for me to read and sign them, and Danny quickly followed me. Once Director Piggot double-checked each of them, she slid them into her folder.
"Good. Now that you are all signed, Arcanum, I assume you figured it out?"
"I think so. The fact that there's an NDA involved sealed it for me," I explained. "Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker, isn't she?"
"Sophia Hess was Shadow Stalker," She corrected quickly. "Officially, she retired after your incident to focus on herself and her issues. Unofficially, Shadow Stalker is a burned Ward, and Sophia Hess is now prisoner number 7628-P-568. Before this incident came to light, she was likely to get out in several years, where she would get the opportunity to join the Protectorate. With what is likely going to be at least an attempted murder charge, she will be getting considerably more jail time."
"Sophia is a Ward?"
The cold, empty tone that Taylor spoke in sent shivers down my spine, and everyone snapped to look at her. Her face was blank, utterly devoid of any emotion, and I had to fight the urge to lean back. Everyone, including her father, was shocked by her new tone.
"... She was Ms Hebert," Piggot explained. "And now, she is in juvenile detention."
Danny reached out and put his hand on Taylor's shoulder, giving his daughter a reassuring squeeze. She remained rock solid and cold, but Danny wasn't looking at her.
"How could this happen?" He asked, focused on the Director. "How could she be a Ward while she was putting my daughter through hell?"
"The blame for that catastrophe falls at the feet of Sophia Hess's handler and Principal Blackwell," She responded, pulling open another file before elaborating. "When a Ward goes to a public school, that school is given a rather large grant of money every year. This is supposed to be used to increase security, hire more personnel, and generally help with the difficulties and issues that stem from covering for the identity of a Ward."
As she spoke, it was easy to see the frustration she felt. Taylor, in particular, seemed to appreciate it, though her cold demeanor only defrosted the slightest amount.
"Both Principal Blackwell and Sophia Hess's handler were skimming a significant portion of that grant for their own use," Director Piggot continued, locking eyes with Taylor. "As long as Sophia Hess continued to go to Winslow High, they would both get a significant cut of that money. As such, they both covered for her. Her handler was responsible for getting the PRT to claim jurisdiction on the investigation and subsequently burying that investigation, while Principal Blackwell buried your complaints and kept outside sources from investigating your assault."
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The following morning, I went about my usual routine, starting with a quick, simple meal made by Kali. When I was clean and fed, I made my way out of the forest and to the hospital. At this point, the hospital workers knew the deal and had finally stopped pressing me to heal more than I agreed to. I didn't necessarily think that they were mean-spirited or purposely being cruel or trying to maliciously take advantage of me. Instead, I was pretty sure they just saw how easy it was for me to help people, so they immediately assumed there was no reason for me not to spend more time healing. I wanted to help, after all, didn't I?
If it hadn't been for Alya keeping my head on straight, I could absolutely see myself giving into peer pressure, which I could only imagine must have been much worse for Amy. She was already struggling with questions of self-worth thanks to the bitch who raised her, having people constantly push those particular buttons must have been horrible. Again, I didn't think anyone in the hospital was being intentionally malicious or aggressive, but they clearly saw her as an asset to be used first, and a person second.
While I was at the hospital, I paid extra close attention to who was healing from the PRT. They weren't hiding them per se, but I had a sneaking suspicion they were purposely not advertising them either. It wasn't until I healed a kid with a torn rotator cuff that I realized that they were probably worried about the identities of their agents and heroes. They needed their people healed as quick as possible, but it wasn't hard to connect the person who broke their arm to the hero who just had their arm broken.
I made a mental note to talk to Director Piggot when we were meeting later. I had assumed she understood I was happy to make acceptions for heroes, but there was a chance she misunderstood.
Once I was done with my rounds, I made my way to the Docks Community. At this point, the excitement and novelty of combining two communities, as well as mixed parts from a third, had seemed to wear off for their members. People had rebuilt their own little chunks of space, ranging from single-tarp homes that barely counted as such, to much more complicated structures, usually built from customized tents and tarps.
I walked around for a little while, healing and chatting with people, before ending up in an empty corner with Olivia, John, and Charles. It was under the guise of lunch, but really, I wanted more information about something I heard during my rounds.
"So I heard you got some people poking their noses in?" I asked, repeated. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah, it was the ABB, trying to sniff out any competition and stamp them out," Charles said, shaking his head. "It's nothing, really. Just the small-time guy in charge of our neighborhood. He likes to stop by every once in a while, rattle us up, show that he is in control."
"Is he?" I asked. "Did he do anything different this time?"
"He was wary of the golems, which we kept to the side and out of his way," Charles explained. "Other than that, nothing new. As for control… he is in charge of the neighborhood under the ABB, but it's not like this neighborhood is important to them. We are the biggest group here, and we don't exactly have the free cash to buy drugs. Though there are a few here who wish they did."
"So he is a vassal who got handed the crap chunk of land," I equated, John nodding in agreement. "Well, as long as he isn't going to stir up trouble. Let me know if stuff starts to change. I have… an alternative if something goes wrong."
"What, gonna make the whole place disappear?" Olivia asked with a teasing smile.
"I could probably do something like that," I admitted, getting a surprised look from my friends. "I could also set something up elsewhere, someplace out of the way. It wouldn't be any less illegal, but it would be safer."
"Where?" Charles asked. "I know you disappear into the woods most nights. At least that's what everyone says online…"
"More or less," I confirmed with a shrug. "I might have the starting of a base of operations out there. Part of me wanted to keep where I live and where you guys live separate, so you guys aren't caught in the crossfire if someone tries to run me down, but…"
"I think… for now, we are good where we are," John said, with Charles nodding in agreement.
"You'll get accused of being a master if a good chunk of the homeless population just walks into the woods," Olivia pointed out rather bluntly, though not incorrectly. "Better keep things how they are for now."
"Great. Okay, that sounds good," I said with a nod. "And you guys don't think the ABB is a threat?"
"Of course they are a threat," Charles said, shaking his head. "But they aren't going to start trouble, not for no reason."
"Not even over me?"
"Believe it or not, you haven't come up," Charles responded with a shrug. "He didn't mention you or your trees, just kept a close eye on the golems and walked around, trying to sound big."
"His boss is probably hoping you take out more of the Empire," John pointed out, Charles reluctantly agreeing with a gesture. "You already killed one of them, even if he was more of a nuisance than anything. It's in his best interest to let you guys fight it out."
"And he will just let that happen? In his front lawn?"
"Lung tends to rule from the back," Olivia explained with a shrug. "He doesn't step out until something needs to be stepped on. Oni Lee might get sent out to send a message occasionally, but that's only if you go against them. You don't plan on hitting ABB assets or getting involved with their work anytime soon, right?"
I frowned and shook my head. The truth was, at some point, I did plan on hitting ABB assets, but not until I could stamp out the after effects, and guarantee the people I was responsible for would be okay. That meant I couldn't do anything without gaining more power or allies, preferably both. Knowing Olivia was around to help defend the community was a massive weight off my shoulders, and with a few more people to work with, I was pretty sure I could finally start taking down some of the gangs.
We talked a bit more about how everything was going before I left to head to the PRT headquarters. I was a bit early, but I figured doing a few loops of a patrol would burn plenty of time.
Two hours, a mugging and a purse snatching later, I arrived at the PRT office. At the direction of a waiting Agent, I rode Troy down into the parking area, where Assault was waiting. I jumped off Troy, who sat down in a parking spot, before making my way to the hero.
"Good to see you, Arcanum. I-," He greeted me, reaching out to shake my hand, suddenly freezing when he did. It took a moment for him to shake his head and release my hand.
"Huh… well, you certainly earn that Trump rating, I suppose," He said, looking at his hand and then back at me. "I didn't get anything from that."
"What do you mean?" I asked, the Protectorate member turning to lead me to the elevator upwards.
"My powers are all about manipulating kinetic energy, at least when it's applied to me," He explained. "I can feel it on me constantly, every little touch is kinda like an access point. I don't think I can affect you at all, though. Like something is blocking me…"
"Ah well… I did warn you guys I am a tinker of sorts," I pointed out. "Though I didn't mean to counter your powers specifically. If you're up for it, when this is all done, we could do some testing."
"Wait, really?" He asked, sounding surprised, his eyes wide.
"Yeah, I would rather know how it interacts with your ability now than when we are working together in the field," I pointed. "Plus, I get to try out something new. Not gonna show off everything, but yeah, I'll probably have an hour or two."
He nodded enthusiastically, agreeing happily to the idea. Apparently, he had no idea what I was actually here for but had volunteered to come down and guide me before going out on patrol. He admitted he would have to run it by a few people first, but he was confident they would agree.
We shook hands again outside a conference room before he jogged off to find his partner for the day. After saying goodbye, I stepped inside to see the Heberts already there, sitting inside on one side of a conference table. Both of them looked tired and drained, and yet they also looked... healthier and happier.
"Hello," I said, sitting down along the edge of the table opposite the father and daughter pair. "Have you been waiting long?"
"No, we arrived a few minutes ago," Daniel responded. "Listen, Arcanum. Before things get started, I wanted to thank you again for… everything you've been doing. Not just stopping those kids from chasing Taylor, but making sure that this meeting happened."
"I was happy to help," I assured him. "While a lot of heroes seem to think that getting powers seem to mean they should challenge the world to a fistfight, I've found that helping on a smaller scale can be just as important, if not more so. As pretentious as that might sound."
"I wouldn't say so. I asked some of my friends, and it seems like you have been doing a lot of good around this city," Danny said with a smile. "I know a few people living with Charles' group. He seemed to think you've earned the right to give that advice."
"I'm flattered," I said with a smile before looking at Taylor. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm… okay." She said, looking up from her hands. "I got to skip school for today… Sharing everything has made it seem lighter. I got a full night's sleep for the first time in a while."
"I'm glad to hear that," I said. "I hope-"
Before I could continue, the door opened, and Director Piggot immediately stepped inside, quickly followed by Miss Militia. I nodded to both of them, standing politely before sitting down with them. Unsurprisingly, Director Piggot took the head chair, with Miss Militia sitting to her right. The director, simply put, did not look happy.
"First, Arcanum, I want to thank you for bringing this issue to our attention. I have no doubt it would have gotten out anyway, as once you informed the police that the investigation had halted without any investigation or conclusion reached, it was inevitable. However, by bringing it directly to me, I can do this."
She passed a stack of papers to Miss Militia, who leaned over to hand them to Danny. She then slid an identical stack to me.
"This is an NDA. This does not concern the entirety of why you are here," she explained as Danny and I read through the pretty straightforward legal document. "This covers a very specific piece of information that will make explaining this situation significantly easier. If you do not sign this, then this meeting is over. I will remind you that NDAs cannot enforce silence on acts that are illegal."
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "I can't believe-"
"I will also ask you to keep certain thoughts about what you may or may not think this NDA is designed to cover to yourself until all of us can legally discuss it," the large woman added, giving me a harsh look. "Please, sign the papers if you are willing."
I snapped my mouth shut, nodding and looking back down at the papers. It didn't take long for me to read and sign them, and Danny quickly followed me. Once Director Piggot double-checked each of them, she slid them into her folder.
"Good. Now that you are all signed, Arcanum, I assume you figured it out?"
"I think so. The fact that there's an NDA involved sealed it for me," I explained. "Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker, isn't she?"
"Sophia Hess was Shadow Stalker," She corrected quickly. "Officially, she retired after your incident to focus on herself and her issues. Unofficially, Shadow Stalker is a burned Ward, and Sophia Hess is now prisoner number 7628-P-568. Before this incident came to light, she was likely to get out in several years, where she would get the opportunity to join the Protectorate. With what is likely going to be at least an attempted murder charge, she will be getting considerably more jail time."
"Sophia is a Ward?"
The cold, empty tone that Taylor spoke in sent shivers down my spine, and everyone snapped to look at her. Her face was blank, utterly devoid of any emotion, and I had to fight the urge to lean back. Everyone, including her father, was shocked by her new tone.
"... She was Ms Hebert," Piggot explained. "And now, she is in juvenile detention."
Danny reached out and put his hand on Taylor's shoulder, giving his daughter a reassuring squeeze. She remained rock solid and cold, but Danny wasn't looking at her.
"How could this happen?" He asked, focused on the Director. "How could she be a Ward while she was putting my daughter through hell?"
"The blame for that catastrophe falls at the feet of Sophia Hess's handler and Principal Blackwell," She responded, pulling open another file before elaborating. "When a Ward goes to a public school, that school is given a rather large grant of money every year. This is supposed to be used to increase security, hire more personnel, and generally help with the difficulties and issues that stem from covering for the identity of a Ward."
As she spoke, it was easy to see the frustration she felt. Taylor, in particular, seemed to appreciate it, though her cold demeanor only defrosted the slightest amount.
"Both Principal Blackwell and Sophia Hess's handler were skimming a significant portion of that grant for their own use," Director Piggot continued, locking eyes with Taylor. "As long as Sophia Hess continued to go to Winslow High, they would both get a significant cut of that money. As such, they both covered for her. Her handler was responsible for getting the PRT to claim jurisdiction on the investigation and subsequently burying that investigation, while Principal Blackwell buried your complaints and kept outside sources from investigating your assault."
Hey everyone, just a reminder that I have a Patreon! Being a supporter has a lot of benefits, like early chapters and access to my original content. If you are interested in those benefits or just want to support my attempt to become a full-time writer, stop by and show your support. Every dollar helps!
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Sanity prevails.
So far. That darn conflict drive has gotta kick in somewhere, sooner or later. With Queen Escalator in play it's all but inevitable.
So far. That darn conflict drive has gotta kick in somewhere, sooner or later. With Queen Escalator in play it's all but inevitable.
- Location
- England
The principal is your pal. Unless it's Blackwell, but the spelling still applies.
Akasha
The Only Truth
- Location
- 「̛̛́́ ͏̨҉̕͏ ͏̶̴」
The Blackwell Principle is the principle which stipulates that principal Blackwell is always written as principle instead of principal.
It is a matter of principle.
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Fellow Human
Verified Roado Rolla
Does the MC do anything with the plot?
I'm someone who liked and hated the author's older fic Conceptual Deck. Its problem was that MC kept cook-inventing and cooking and cooking, but the story was sloowly moving without the MC, who after the nth upgrade was more than ready for a debut.
The writing quality was fine as long as the MC was alone and inventing cool stuff, but the addition of a friendly bot was bloody attrocious. Don't remember how canon characters were, but the OC bot-friend was so wooden that it could've spawned a Hashirama.
So are my worries for naught, has the author improved?
I'm someone who liked and hated the author's older fic Conceptual Deck. Its problem was that MC kept cook-inventing and cooking and cooking, but the story was sloowly moving without the MC, who after the nth upgrade was more than ready for a debut.
The writing quality was fine as long as the MC was alone and inventing cool stuff, but the addition of a friendly bot was bloody attrocious. Don't remember how canon characters were, but the OC bot-friend was so wooden that it could've spawned a Hashirama.
So are my worries for naught, has the author improved?
- Location
- Usa
Pretty sure Assault can't directly affect people, otherwise he'd be able to run around launching people into walls with the tap of a finger, or twist people's arms out of their sockets with a pat on the back.
I could see him being able to feel other people's energy though.
Not sure why she's coming out of the gates with this no-nonsense, rolling up her sleeves and solving the problem attitude. All she did was try to pass the buck into a low-level handler and a low-income public school administrator.
It's a really, really bad look that her organizational audits are so infrequent that they didn't catch this kind of obvious embezzlement. Asking for a list of receipts just one time would have been enough to nip this in the bud.
Not sure why she didn't accept the ultimate responsibility for the mistake.